PC History

I think I was sixteen the year we got our first PC. ‘87 or ‘88. It had one of those green-tinged enormous monitors with a tiny screen and it used 5.25" floppy discs, which I think would hold about ten WordPerfect documents (because back then everyone used WordPerfect, with the blue screen, remember? and the templates over your F keys?). I’d learned how to save and organize files and how to use WordPerfect in tenth grade (perhaps the only skill from high school I still use, aside from the making of cheese fondue, an abiding love of Edna St. Vincent Millay, and of course driving), so as soon as it was home and plugged in, I started using it. We kept it in the basement, in the bedroom that used to be my sister Michele’s but which we took to calling the computer room. I wrote hundreds of bad poems on that computer; plenty of proto personal essays, a bunch of short stories, and a few homework assignments. I printed stuff off on the dot matrix printer and then enjoyed ripping off the feeding edges of the paper.

I still have one of those floppy discs in a box somewhere, just for old times’ sake.

I’m pretty sure, though, that my first interaction with a computer came way back in the sixth grade, when my history teacher Mr. Johnson (apparently ahead of his time in the inclusion of technology) taught us how to program simple commands into a mainframe. How did he have a mainframe in a public school in 1984? No clue. But I still remember the satisfying thrill of typing in the code and then seeing the computer do what I told it to do. (Even if I don’t remember the code anymore.)

Right out of high school (actually, before I was even officially done with high school, even though I really was done with high school) I started working at WordPerfect. Everyone I knew was vaguely computer-nerdish. I even went ahead and married a computer nerd.

All of which is to say: I have a hard time envisioning my life without a computer (or two) in it. And it’s also my explanation to the fact that sometimes when I’m working I find myself completely astounded at what people don’t know about using a computer. Basic stuff like accessing files and using email. In my head I’m thinking really? while I’m struggling to keep my face neutral and helpful.

Yesterday I tried to help a library patron, Karl, who told me right up front that he thinks computers are soulless and that is why he’s never learned to use one, but he also wanted to make sure that everything about him, his family, and his property on "that Internets place" was correct. At first I was exceedingly frustrated because he was a rambler and I couldn’t get to the point of what he wanted and because he wanted me to find all of his personal information and verify it all and that’s not how it works. We don’t have enough librarians to provide a personal research assistant to everyone who wants one.

I struggled to keep my neutral, helpful face on.

After teaching Karl how to use the mouse (including how it interacts with the cursor) and finding some useful maps, I told him my time was up and I had to help other people. He sighed and said, "I’m sorry, I know I’ve taken up your time, I just really, really hate computers." And I did something I almost never, ever do at work: I said what I really thought. 

"You’ve really only got two choices here, Karl," I said, kindly as I could. "Whether you like them or not, computers are the way things are now. So you can learn how to use one, or you’ll be limited in which information you can access." I don’t know how he took that; maybe it seemed harsh, but it is also the truth.

I keep thinking about this encounter. I can tell it as a funny story (which I did to Kendell and Jake when I got home). But it’s more than funny. As I listened to this patron and tried to imagine his life, it was like seeing two different layers of reality. As if Karl and I live in completely different worlds even though we live in the same town.

I can hardly imagine my life without a computer. My journal, our pictures, my writing, and of course there’s email and Facebook and my blog. Recipes. Directions. Instructions. How to clean off the big blue monkey someone drew with Sharpie on our vinyl fence once. (Magic Eraser + hair spray.) I listen to music on my computer and watch movies, read the news and find new books to read. Then there’s cell phones, MP3 players, tablets, laptops. Technology seems completely intertwined with modern life.

But Karl reminded me that it doesn’t have to be. He’s not the only person I’ve helped who doesn’t use computers, either. Every time I work in the Internet area I help someone who doesn’t know how to access digital photos other than just looking at them on the little camera screen or that you don’t have to press the Enter key at the end of the line when you’re using a word processor. And once I work through my frustration, annoyance, and surprise, I find myself a bit uncomfortable. Questioning, I suppose, how thoroughly technology is tangled into my existence.

I mean, on one hand, what I told that patron yesterday is true: it is inescapable. The people who need help because they don’t know how to get their resume from their computer at home onto the website of the company they are applying for seem, in my opinion, to not have many options. How do you find a job when you can’t use a computer? It’s a basic reality of our world whether you like it or not.

On the other hand, though. I can’t help thinking: what would it be like? To be off the grid, I mean. Mostly not a presence on the Internet, nowhere to be found online, and if you wanted to talk to me you’d have to call me. Or even stop by my house. Certainly I’d have more time for some things—reading, and even housework—without the tug of technology.

Really: I don’t want to be like Karl. I am grateful that my life brought me plenty of technological experiences so that I can function comfortably in contemporary existence. I don’t take my knowledge for granted nor overlook the fact that it is because of those experiences that I can function, technology-wise. I don’t want to lose out on opportunities because of computer illiteracy.

But I know, deep in my heart, there is something to be said for the simplicity of life that must exist without so much technology so deeply embedded. I know I waste too much time putzing around online. I know my kids do, too. So whenever I encounter someone like Karl, I try to use it as one might an encounter with someone from another planet. What can I learn from this being who lives so differently than I do? And sometimes that knowledge is this: back off, unplug, live more, click less.

Comments

[Vickie]

Great post- as usual!
I love technology but I have older sisters who absolutely refuse to even consider getting a computer- in fact they get angry when someone suggests it. Of course they are around 80 but I can't imagine myself at that age without a computer!

[Chris S]

You've given me something to ponder more. The next big question is how to get everyone in the family to unplug at the same time.

One of my favorite memories of my grandma was having a conversation with her while she was in her 90s and she told me how stressed she was over the fact that she had never sent an email :)

[Zyzmog]

We learn a lot of stuff in life just so we'll be able to draw on that knowledge in the (rare) occasions when we need to use it: things like stopping arterial bleeding, doing CPR, driving a stick shift, patching a hole in the wall, hemming a skirt, and making floral arrangements. Some of this knowledge is commonplace to person A, but esoteric and rarely useful to person B, and yet it's all useful knowledge at one time or another.

I think that's how it is with computers and everything computer-related. Computer stuff is commonplace to some people (which is why you're reading Amy's blog right now, and why most of you have blogs of your own) and not-so-commonplace to others, but there's simply no excuse, in the 21st century, for stubbornly refusing to learn how to use a computer or some computer-related gadget and then expecting the world to make allowances for one's willful ignorance.

The handwriting was on the wall back in the 1980s or 1990s, when somebody like the CEO of Intel (maybe?) said, "It took 80 years for GE to get ten electric motors in every home. In less than ten years, we're going to get ten microprocessors in every home."

[Zyzmog]

p.s. I'm sure I mangled the quote, but Google is not being very helpful this morning.

[Wendy]

I'm not technologically illiterate (I have a blog and I can get information, etc.), but my oldest son does, indeed, call me "technologically disabled." I'm wishing some of the technological habits came easier to me. At the moment, Trevor is wanting to get a "mod" for the Mindcraft game. My response? "What?" How in the world would I figure all this stuff out without my sixteen year old to guide me. Even my husband gets frustrated with me because if a message pops up on my lap-top, I freeze. I don't want to click the wrong thing and invite a virus or something. I don't know how to answer the questions they are asking. I feel like an 80 year old computer illiterate, yet I'm only 47.

I find my annual ten days at camp to be refreshing because I unplug almost entirely (well, I do check my e-mail and Facebook about twice in that time). I think these things come easier to some and harder to others. I may just be in the harder group. Still haven't figured out how to format my manuscript to make it ready to send to agents. I cannot figure out in Word how to single space my address and then double space the rest of the manuscript. If it were WordPerfect, I'd be fine, but then, that is passe and I don't even have it anymore on our newer computers.

Sorry for rambling. You must have hit a nerve.

[Kristin]

Great post!! I have been meaning to take the time to comment for a few days. Better late than never. I am puzzled by people who refuse to get on board with technology. I loved your comment to Karl and plan to use it myself. I have an aunt and uncle who consider their lack of knowledge and non-use of technology a bizarre badge of honor. They love to say things like "I don't DO the internet" and "I refuse to have an email address" or "I am anti-facebook/blogs/whatever" and they honestly feel mighty superior about it. I just have to shake my head.

On another note...I enjoyed reading about your introduction to computers. My very first experience with computers was at Sage Creek. It was one of our "mini-courses" remember those? I think it was taught by Mr. Jacobsen (the principal) cassette tapes were used. Did you take that one? Unfortunately I was bored out of my mind...David Lee got sick of helping me...and I moved on to ceramics (I painted a mouse asleep in a walnut) and latch-hooking rugs which I thoroughly enjoyed. :) But I still remember so clearly sitting in front of the first computers at Sage Creek with my little white cassette tape in my hand trying to figure it all out. :)